


Sold by the Sword

by Rikkichi



Series: the Fern and the Cactus [2]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, living story 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9606944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkichi/pseuds/Rikkichi
Summary: "I think seeing a friend's face might do Canach some good right about now."The Commander couldn't help but chuckle at that. "I'm his friend now, am I?""He's nice to you. He's rarely nice to anyone."





	1. Billet

He felt like he was running everywhere these days.

He didn't mind the work, talking with people and making arrangements for the future was far preferable to fighting the Mordrem. Fighting had never been a favorite of his, despite his time spent with a few certain Norn and Charr who had tried to convince him otherwise. It was a necessity, and one that he was good at, but not one that he preferred to do. Being able to talk through problems, now that was something he liked much better. Even if it came with its own frustrations.

But as much as he liked talking, he disliked how much he was bouncing around these days. The Asura gates helped, but those only went to certain locations, and he had to travel the rest of the way on foot. After that trip through Orr he never thought his feet would hurt that much, but those blisters and soft spots were starting to come back. These days he barely made it to his sleeping quarters before kicking off his boots and just collapsing into bed. Though he may walk through the Dream at night, at least it was only his mind that went there.

There was no rest to be had at that moment, though. He had work to do, and thanks to a certain reckless Charr an extra stop had been added to his already-long travel plans.

"So he just jumped in, like that? All for a sword?"

"Of course he did. That's not just any old sword."

At least Laranthir and Almorra were content to meet in the war room, instead of pacing around the Vigil Keep. Standing was much easier than walking. But the Commander didn't have much time to sit through a history lesson with them. He still had to report back to Trahearne and get the world summit rolling. And that was assuming that no other problems came up between then and now. So he cleared his throat, getting the other two to look in his direction. 

When their eyes were on him, he spoke again. "As I was saying, Rytlock is likely in the Mists now. Given how expansive the Mists are, it seems unlikely that anyone could just stumble upon him in there. So we need to be prepared to go after Mordremoth without him, should he not return."

"Which is where we come in, I'm guessing," Almorra said.

The Commander nodded. "The Pact forces alone aren't going to be enough. Mordremoth is sinking his vines in deep. Though we have recovered much in the last year or so, we're still not back to the numbers we had before beginning the campaign against Zhaitan. Maguuma is much further away than Orr is, too. The Pact is going to need a lot of resources to even get there, much less fight Mordremoth. That means more supplies, more people to run those supplies, and more people to push forward."

"I'm going to be asking all three Orders the same thing, but I came here first." He didn't even need to say why, his loyalty to the Vigil would never be questioned. "Do you think you can commit time and resources to this?"

Laranthir and Almorra both looked at each other for a moment. The Commander wasn't sure what they were thinking, but the silence did make him worry. The longer they went without answering, the more his mind supplied that unspoken 'no'. He was already bracing himself for the worst when Almorra nodded to Laranthir. "You said there is a summit being held," she said, looking back to the Commander, "That Trahearne is trying to get the nations of Tyria to fund this war against Mordremoth. Why don't you go ahead with that for now? I'll defer my decision until I see how that turns out."

It was disappointing to hear, but very reasonable. The Vigil was just as strapped for soldiers as the Pact was, and committing any soldiers to this would be a resource drain. Trahearne may have proved himself in Orr, but everyone was wary of this new dragon. The Commander understood it, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"Of course," he said, bowing his head to Almorra. She had earned his respect several times over, so he wouldn't let his disappointment interfere with his politeness. "I'll keep you updated on the situation, then."

He saluted the two generals, who saluted him in return. Then, his task done, he turned to leave. He still had to make it back to Fort Trinity that night, and the sky was already starting to turn dark in the East.

He did not make it to the Asura gate uninterrupted, though. As he started up the steps to where the platform was, a familiar voice made him stop. "You look a bit wilted, Commander."

The Commander reached up to touch the large ferns that sprouted out of the top of his head, not unlike how hair would on a human. They felt normal to him, but he still turned to look at the other Sylvari, forcing a smile as he said, "Do I really look that bad, Siriam?"

The Sylvari woman just laughed lightly as she uncrossed her arms and walked the few steps over to where the Commander was. "I don't mean there," she said, "I mean in general. Had a rough day?"

"'Rough', ironically, is a gentle way of putting it." The Commander wasn't about to talk about what was discussed in the meeting, he didn't want to betray Almorra's trust on the matter. But he could complain about everything else, if only for a moment. "These days I'm being bounced around so much it feels like my head is spinning. What I wouldn't give for a solid week to rest in the Grove."

"Give it time, you'll get your rest." After a moment, Siriam added, "Are you here to see Canach?"

Oddly enough, that thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Usually he did make some time to speak to the rather prickly Sylvari any time he had business at the Keep, if only out of curiosity. Stopping to talk with him now would put the Commander even further behind schedule, but at the same time the chat might be a welcome change. "I might," he said, "If he hasn't gone to sleep already."

"He stays up quite late, so you should be fine to visit him," Siriam answered, "I think seeing a friend's face might do him some good right about now."

The Commander couldn't help but chuckle at that. "I'm his friend now, am I?"

"He's nice to you. He's rarely nice to anyone." 

'Nice' wasn't the word that came to mind when he thought of the talks they had in the past. He had a sharp wit, and he didn't hold his tongue like others might. Talking with Canach was either an interesting conversation or an exercise in patience. The Commander wasn't sure that he had the energy left in him to find out what today's flavor of dialogue would be.

But then Siriam said something that changed his mind on that point completely. "His billet will be going up for sale soon. You might not get to pay a visit here for much longer."

The Commander frowned. "His billet?"

"His early release," Siriam explained, "Lion's Arch is still being rebuilt, and we could use all the funds we can get. Keeping a prisoner here at the Keep isn't exactly cheap either. So, if a prisoner is behaving, sometimes Lion's Arch will sell their billet to the highest bidder. The prisoner then works for the person who bought the billet until that debt has been cleared. Prisoner's get more freedom, the purchaser gets some labor, and the city gets some cash up front. It's the Lion's Arch way."

It sounded almost reasonable. Almost. Maybe for another prisoner. But The Commander knew a few things that made him suspicious of this. "And he agreed to this?"

"He certainly hasn't voiced any protests to it," Siriam said with a shrug.

That still didn't sound quite right to the Commander. After everything that had happened in Southsun, he would have thought that Canach would want nothing to do with the sale of personal labor. And if the Vigil or the Lionguard was forcing him into that kind of arrangement, then something needed to be done about that. Prisoners had rights too.

"I think I will stop and see him," the Commander said finally, "It's been a long day, a friendly chat may be just what I need."


	2. Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another talk with Canach, this time over billets and how ethical it is to own one.

Canach would never, ever, not in a hundred years, even under pain of death, admit that visits from the Commander were the highlight of his day. Anyone who dared to mention how Canach's mood lightened whenever the much smaller Sylvari visited got an immediate, prickly scowl from him. He wasn't about to let anyone think he was going soft. Regret and atonement were allowed, but never 'soft'.

His protests meant absolutely nothing, though, as it was absolutely true: any time Canach saw that familiar head of ferns moving about the Vigil Keep he could always feel a grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. Sure, the Commander's visits were not _that_ frequent; he had only stopped by a half a dozen times in the last three months. But every time he arrived Canach found himself drawn into a lengthy conversation, and every time he left Canach found himself eager for the next time.

In his mind, he justified this by saying that he hardly got any visitors, and the chance for a conversation was a welcome change. He absolutely knew that this was a lie, but it was a lie he was committed to.

Canach was already sitting cross-legged in his cage when the Commander walked up. He had taken to mimicking the Commander's posture during their talks, moreso for comfort than any other reason. This brought a smile to the Commander's weary face, and he stepped up and sat down opposite of Canach, with only a couple feet and a set of iron bars between them.

"If I didn't know better, I would say that you were looking forward to this," the Commander said, that grin sitting well on his face.

"I have never gotten many visitors, and I get even less since Scarlet attacked," Canach said simply, "Who wouldn't look forward to the chance to stave off boredom for an hour?"

"Oh, so that's what I am to you? An idle entertainment, here to save you from the boredom of your cell?" There was a hint of playfulness to the Commander's voice as he spoke.

"I wouldn't call your tongue 'idle'," Canach said, "But you have it mostly correct."

The Commander snorted in amusement at that, but he did not respond verbally. Instead he looked away from Canach, focusing down on the ground in front of him. If time had taught Canach anything, it was that this was what the Commander did when he was carefully considering his words. He did have a streak of rashness to him- which was most likely why he had fit in the Vigil so well- but he did try to be diplomatic at times. Canach just wondered why diplomacy suddenly mattered. He was a prisoner, not a prince. Even if the Commander's words managed to offend Canach- which was unlikely, given how thick his skin was- it wasn't like Canach could do anything about it.

But still the Commander thought, considering his words before he spoke.

"I heard you may not be in this cage for much longer," he said finally, still looking at the ground in front of him instead of on Canach himself. 

Even though the Commander could not see the motion at that moment, Canach nodded as he said, "You're right. My billet will go up for auction soon, and the highest bidder will buy my services."

"Oh, and they let just anybody out now?"

"Of course not. Only those who are no longer a threat to society or have demonstrated a sincere desire for rehabilitation are allowed in the program. Like me, for example. I want nothing more than to put my lawless days behind me."

"You're bragging again."

"What, over my desire to turn a new leaf?" Canach scoffed at the Commander. "And here I thought you would be happy to hear about the fact that I am safe enough to be released early." 

A frown was spreading across the Commander's face, and this in turn made Canach frown as well. What was going through the Sylvari's mind? He seemed troubled by the news that Canach would be getting out of his glorified cage soon, which was the opposite of what Canach expected to see. "Do you not find this agreeable," he asked finally, wondering what the Commander could possibly object to.

Finally, the Commander looked up at Canach, golden eyes meeting pale ones. But those eyes, they looked troubled. "Doesn't it bother you, Canach? To be sold in such a way? It seems just like slavery."

Ah, there it was.

Canach shrugged as he said, "It is in all but name and the temporary nature of it. But I have little choice here. I committed a crime, and now I must pay for it. If my services are to be used by a private contractor rather than the Lionguard, then so be it."

"But it feels wrong," the Commander insisted, "What if I were to purchase your billet? Then you could be free to do as you wish. I certainly wouldn't hold you to it."

That earned a short, harsh laugh from Canach. For all of the effort the Commander made to seem like a respectable man, he was still just a sapling. "Then you would be the one in this cage instead of me. If you were to buy a billet, then you would be personally responsible for that prisoner. It's part of why they only choose certain prisoners to sell off in that manner."

The Commander's eyes widened, and then he looked away again. "I didn't know about that," he said dejectedly, his tone dropping at the end of the sentence.

"But now you know why only some take on the risk," Canach said, "And don't worry yourself too much. I will have much more freedom when I am in the service of another."

"I would still rather you served nobody but yourself."

Something about the Commander's words there sent a jolt of electricity straight through Canach. Did this sapling really want Canach to be a free man? Did he really think that this kind of servitude was wrong, that it was better to just release any prisoner who said 'I'm sorry'? Canach didn't even have to debate those points, one look at the Commander's face told him that the answers were 'yes' and 'probably yes.' Something about that fact made him feel both happy and anxious at the same time.

"Such concern is…" What is the word Canach is thinking of? "…touching, truly. But I have a debt to pay, and selling my sword to the highest bidder seems like a better way to do it than rotting away in this cell. Though I can't blame you for not wanting this change, I would certainly miss myself if these conversations were to come to an end."

That last line was overly-cheesy, but it did what Canach had been hoping it would do: it brought a smile back to the Commander's face. And honestly, that smile made him feel even better than any other visit had in the past.

This whole conversation had left behind more questions than answers.

"Oh believe me, I would hate to see you wither away. But I wonder if our paths will truly keep crossing like this. Depending on who owns your billet, you could end up in Ascalon, or in the Shiverpeaks."

"If I end up in Ascalon or the Shiverpeaks, then you will simply need to travel further to find me." Canach said that mostly in jest, but he would be lying if he denied that small part of himself that actually wanted to happen."

Looking up again, the Commander said just one last thing. "We shall see, Canach. Just don't make it _too_ hard to find you. I'm notoriously terrible at games like that."


	3. Growth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still bothered by the prospect of buying and selling a person, the Commander talks to one of his closest friends.

"So all four of the other nations have agreed to send representatives to the meeting?"

"It took some convincing, and some rather reckless actions in a few places, but yes. You will be there too, I trust?"

"Of course. Everyone will want to see the one who will be leading their men into battle against Mordremoth."

"Excellent. All three Orders are waiting to hear of the results, and they may commit men and resources to our cause."

"I can only hope that Mother manages to impress the severity of the situation on everyone, then."

"Mhmm."

Trahearne regarded the Commander carefully for a moment. This was an unusual meeting between the two of them. Usually they walked side-by-side, slowly making their way around the fort while they discussed matters of importance. Since they were both Sylvari, they both felt that need to keep moving. But today the Commander was sitting on one of the many crates in the supply area, alternating between watching Trahearne as he paced and looking off towards the north. 

"Something else is bothering you," Trahearne said after a few moments of silence. It was a statement, not a question, as he already had an idea of what the answer would be.

"No," the Commander said at first, but then he shook his head, delicate green ferns bouncing this way and that with the movement, "I mean, not really. It's nothing of importance."

"It is if it is bothering you," Trahearne said, stopping mid-step and turning to face the Commander.

The Commander sighed. Trahearne knew that sound all too well: it was the one the younger Sylvari made every time Trahearne had convinced him to do something he would rather not do. A moment later this proved true, as the Commander said, "Marshall- Trahearne, speak honestly with me for a moment: what do you think of buying the labor of prisoners?"

That wasn't quite what he expected to hear. Just what kind of trouble had the Commander been getting himself into? "I have heard of it happening," Trahearne answered, speaking in a measured tone as he watched the Commander to see his reaction, "Mostly in Lion's Arch, or the surrounding areas. Personally I wouldn't do such a thing; our work is very dangerous, and I wouldn't force someone to do it against their will. But it does happen. Why do you ask?"

The Commander shifted in place uncomfortably. Trahearne knew him all too well, though. He liked to gather his thoughts, to carefully consider his response before speaking. He had always been like that, for as long as Trahearne could remember. Fortunately, Trahearne was a patient man, and he could wait for the Commander to finally speak.

His patience paid off soon enough. "There is a man I know. A Sylvari named Canach. Have you heard of him?"

"I have," Trahearne responded, "I have met him before as well, but it has been many years since I have seen him in person."

"He is one of the prisoners who is to be sold into service. But I have spoken to him on several occasions, and he seems remorseful. He knows what he did was wrong, and he wants to make amends." The Commander looked up to Trahearne, sadness filling those golden eyes of his. Not too long ago that look might have made Trahearne's heart skip a beat, but nowadays it just made him worry. A look like that, it usually preceded a poor decision on the Commander's part. "Trahearne, I…I just can't understand why someone like that would deserve to be sold to the highest bidder."

It was a tough situation. The Commander had come to Trahearne for advice many times in the past, and usually Trahearne had words of encouragement for him. He was still a sapling, after all: by Trahearne's count, he was barely even two years old. It was natural for him to have moments where he needed the advice of someone else. But this situation was not one Trahearne was familiar with, so he didn't have much advice to give.

"Firstly," he said after a long pause, "You must remember that it is not his person being sold, just his prison sentence. He is not a slave, and will not be treated as such. There are rules against such things. Secondly, would it not be easier for him to make amends working for someone else, instead of rotting away in a cell?"

"I hadn't considered that," the Commander said, looking away again.

Trahearne stepped over to the boxes where the Commander was and used a hand to lift the Commander's chin, making the Commander look in his direction again. It was a very intimate gesture, likely far too intimate for their kind of friendship, but he was more concerned about the Commander's state of mind. "He will be fine," Trahearne said gently, smiling down at the Commander, "He will be treated well, regardless of where he ends up. And from what I have heard, Canach isn't exactly fragile."

"No, I suppose not," the Commander said, smiling despite himself.

Trahearne pulled his hand away from the Commander's chin and continued to speak. "If it still worries you, then you can check in on him periodically. Not only are you the Commander of the pack, but you're the Valiant who is meant to slay the dragons. There are very few people who would refuse an audience with you."

"I suppose I could. Thank you, Trahearne." And with that, the Commander finally pushed himself off of the crates and to his feet. 

Crossing his arms, Trahearne said, "Leaving so soon?"

"Yes, unfortunately," the Commander answered, "There is still much work to do. The summit is only two weeks away, and there are many logistics to plan out-"

At that moment, a messenger came running up to the pair of Sylvari. But in an unusual move, she didn't bring the message to Trahearne. No, it was a letter for the Commander, written in a very familiar handwriting. "A letter from Kas," the Commander said, his brow scrunching together in a frown, "What in the world…?"

He opened the letter and began to read, and that frown only deepened. "Trouble in Divinity's Reach," Trahearne asked, leaning over a little to try and peek at the letter. He probably could have been more blatant about it, the Commander never seemed to mind when Trahearne was being nosy, but it felt impolite.

"Something about accusations against Queen Jenna," the Commander said. Folding up the letter, he added, "I'll need to attend to this before the Summit. Do you think you could do me a favor and-"

"-See to the preparations in your place," Trahearne said, finishing the Commander's sentence for him, "Of course. You take care of your business, everything will be ready for you."

The Commander's face relaxed into a relieved smile. "Thanks, Trahearne. You're a true friend."

Friend, boss, mentor, and more, all rolled into one. But in truth, Trahearne was the one who felt lucky, to have a friend like the Commander. He doubted that he would have made it this far without his support. And, should the unthinkable ever happen, he was sure the Pact would be left in good hands.

But hopefully that wouldn't happen for a long, long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah, Commander/Trahearne is totally a thing that happened in this fic, but they broke up amicably some time ago. More on that will be included later.


	4. Agenda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Go on," Canach said, making a 'shoo'ing motion with one of his hands, "You have a job to do, and you don't want to be seen getting too friendly with the staff."

So there actually was a limit to the Commander's favor towards discussion and negotiation. Who would have thought? He certainly didn't, he had actually enjoyed talking with people. But belatedly he realized that all of his previous diplomatic missions had been with people who were at least close to like-minded with him. While they had differences of opinion, they all had the same goal: protecting Tyria. It was through that common goal that the Commander was able to bring about compromise and help arrange the summit in the first place. 

But this…this was an entirely different beast to tackle.

"Introducing a hero who needs no introduction, the Commander of the Pact! And accompanying him, the La—ah, ahem, yes, Kasmeer Meade."

The Commander could feel Kasmeer tense up next to him. He wanted to reach out, to pat her on the shoulder and give her some reassurances, but he knew that it would be frowned upon. Apparently compassion was not allowed among nobility.

He could also hear Kasmeer muttering to herself under her breath. He doubted anyone else was close enough to hear it, but he could just barely pick up the whispers of her lack of confidence. "Keep it together, Kas. You can get through this. Be confident, like Jory." 

"It'll be alright," he murmured to her, trying to keep his mouth movements to a minimum, "I'm right here if they give you any trouble."

"You're playing detective today, not bodyguard," Kasmeer said back to him, "Besides, I already have a necromancer to make me feel better."

"Well I didn't mean to tread on Marjory's toes," the Commander said, cracking a small grin, "Surely she can find it in her heart to forgive me."

"Maybe if you root out the troublemaker today," was Kasmeer's answer, and she left it at that as the pair walked deeper into the party.

They did not get very far before someone was calling out to them. Kasmeer recognized the voice immediately, and she hurried over to the redheaded woman standing off to the side of the party. The Commander remembered just enough about her to remember her name- Countess Anise- but he didn't spend too much time picking at his brain to remember all the details. He was, unfortunately quite distracted by the countess' companion.

"Canach! I never would have expected to see you here," the Commander said, stepping up to the rather grumpy-looking Sylvari, "I suppose your billet was bought after all, then."

Canach gave an affirmative grunt to that. "Thank you for stating the obvious, painful truth. Technically, I'm still a prisoner. It's just now my bars are lined with velvet. Don't let that fool you though. I'm definitely not free."

The smile on the Commander's face fell a little at that. Canach had always been a bit on the prickly side, but today he sounded genuinely disgruntled. Which did make sense, given the situation Canach was in, but he had always seemed so accepting of his sentence before. "So…the Countess owns you now, then?" Just saying the words made his stomach turn. Nobody deserved to be owned by anyone.

It seemed to be as distasteful to Canach as it was to the Commander, who just gave the Commander a frown. "That's harsh. I wouldn't say that. More like I'm on loan to her from the prison. So long as I'm a good grunt, she'll keep me with her and I don't have to go back in the cell."

"I suppose that is indeed preferable to being locked away," the Commander said. The silent 'but' dangled unspoken at the end of that sentence, letting his true feelings on the matter be known. If the Commander had a choice in the matter, he would have found a more suitable reparation for Canach than selling his sword to a Countess in need of a bodyguard.

That seemed to be enough, though. Canach's hard look softened ever so slightly. The Commander noticed it because he was all too familiar with Canach's expressions, thanks to the talks they had been having lately. He wondered if he would have missed it, had they not spoken so frequently before.

"Go on," Canach said, making a 'shoo'ing motion with one of his hands, "You have a job to do, and you don't want to be seen getting too friendly with the staff. It's not what's expected of the ever-famous Commander, hero of the Pact, slayer of Zhaitan."

Though Canach may have been exaggerating a bit about the Commander's fame and titles, he did have a point in there somewhere. Glancing around the garden, the Commander could see that many sets of eyes were trained on him, watching his every move. At least one of those sets of eyes belongs to a troublemaker, too. A troublemaker dead set on making the queen miss the summit. The Commander already stuck out like a sore thumb, his green skin and dark ferns striking a sharp contrast to the various humans located throughout the garden. He definitely didn't have the look of the nobility of Divinity's Reach. It was best to not give that person any more ammunition than they already had. 

"… I only hope to be of some small service, Countess." The Commander only caught the last bit of that conversation, but it sounded like Kasmeer was ready to begin working. Kasmeer nodded her head to Anise, and then she returned to where the Commander was. She took in a deep breath, and then she said, "Oh dear. Okay. Let's start picking apart everything they say."

\---

A particularly grueling hour later, the Commander felt no closer to the truth than they had been when they had begun. Everyone here was so good at double-speak and half-truths. It was lucky that the Commander had Kasmeer there to help him, or else he wouldn't have caught on to anything at all. He just wasn't that great at rooting out the lies, especially when the lies were about an event he had not been present for.

"We're going around in circles," the Commander said, rubbing at his temples in frustration, "I think I understand why the nobility has so many parties now. It takes forever just to sort out what everyone is even saying."

"Don't lose heart," Kasmeer said. She didn't look particularly convinced of their success either, though. There just wasn't much to pick apart here. Everyone had vague stories and very few facts to even back them up. How could any of this be enough to force the queen to stay for a trial? It was ridiculous!

Kasmeer, seemingly sensing the Commander's frustration, spoke up again. "Let's go over what we know."

The Commander nodded in agreement. "You're right, we should collect our thoughts and try again. We know that Scarlet visited the court, and a few other people were in attendance."

"Right. A farmer with a goat, and two ministers—Estelle and Arton."

"We also know that Caduceus likely fueled these rumors, but he likes to work through others. And he's been meeting with these same two ministers in recent months."

"But Minister Arton's story matched what Countess Anise told me. He's probably not the one spreading the rumors."

"It has to be Minister Estelle then," the Commander said finally, "I don't understand why, though. What does she have to gain from all of this?"

"Who knows? Maybe Caduceus offered her a position of power if she did this for him. Power is a strong motivator," Kasmeer said.

The Commander looked out at all the people there in the garden that day. They were all mingling, talking with friendly voices, but he could see the deception in their eyes. Only one person there was trying to keep the queen from going to the summit, but everyone there had their own secrets to hide, their own dirty laundry to cover up. Why could none of them be honest about anything? Even if they didn't consider Mordremoth an immediate threat, there were still the other elder dragons to worry about! Did they really think that the danger was gone, now that Zhaitan's minions were no longer knocking at their door?

The Commander's gaze settled on Canach, who was talking big and making a show out of scaring people off. It was a wonder that Anise was able to get any work done, what with how frightening Canach appeared to be. But that was his job, wasn't it? Be tough, be strong, and keep any troublemakers away. Somehow Canach seemed to be the most honest person in the garden. Ironic, considering that he was a criminal and all.

"Commander?" 

The Commander blinked and looked over to Kasmeer. Had she been trying to get his attention? "Yes?"

"I was saying, we should go talk to Estelle again. Maybe trapping her in her own words will get her to confess."

"Ah, yes. Good idea, Kas. Lead the way?"

He would have to approach Canach later, and talk more about his new position. Being the bodyguard to a countess must have been quite a change from the life he had lived before. The Commander was almost eager to hear about it.

But work had to come first. Work, then fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is where things start to diverge slightly, to account for the relationship between the Commander and Canach. There will be more changes as the story goes on, but there are not going to be any huge changes. Just minor ones, so the relationship will make sense.


	5. Petal

The Grove was a long way away from Divinity's Reach, and though the distance was shortened considerably via the Asura gates there were other ways to tell just how far away they truly were. The whining of the soft-centered humans that had accompanied them was one very glaring example. Divinity's Reach was in the north, closer to the Shiverpeaks. Even in the middle of summer it never got that hot. But the Grove was far south, deep within the Maguuma jungle. It was very hot, very sticky, and downright uncomfortable if you weren't used to it.

Canach did not mind the heat so much, what with having spent his formative years in the jungle and all. It was all a matter of being prepared. The heavy clothing of the north would not serve you well here. There was a reason pretty much everyone in the Grove wore plant-based clothing, after all. Even though Canach himself was wearing heavy armor, the temperature was still tolerable. He would, undoubtedly, outlast all of the whining humans who had made the trip there with him.

The humidity of the jungle was a bother, though. Canach much preferred the dry heat of the desert to this mess of a swamp. But he wouldn't dare put a voice to those thoughts. Unlike _some_ people, he kept his complaints to himself.

Whenever said complaints couldn't be used to backtalk his current employer, that is.

"This place is absolutely fascinating. My men have told me about it, of course, but to see it in person is quite an experience."

Speaking of which…

"I am ever so glad that you find my homeland _fascinating_ ," Canach replied, his voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm, "It wouldn't do for you to be bored here."

Anise chuckled softly, which made Canach frown more deeply. Nothing about that wretched woman was anything but reserved. Even that bit of laughter there was barely allowed out, probably to show her amusement without seeming unsightly. Everything about her, from the way she spoke to the way she looked, was perfectly measured and controlled. She never, ever, looked out of sorts.

It infuriated Canach. He wanted so badly to break that façade, to actually get under her skin. He would have to search more deeply to find some crack in her persona to pick at.

"Oh, believe me, I could never be bored here," Anise said, flashing a small, knowing grin, "There is so much to see. So many Sylvari have returned home for this summit, even the busy ones like Caithe and Trahearne."

The scowl Canach gave at the mention of those two Firstborn was probably carried a bit too much emotion in it. He had meant to silence Anise, but instead it got her to speak again. She said, "This envy of your older siblings ill becomes you. You'd do well to find a way past it."

Canach looked away from Anise entirely, instead busying himself with the 'bodyguard' look: scan the area, scare off any potential threats. He was certainly in enough of a mood to be frightening right then. How was it that Anise could immediately pick out all of his problems and- as much as he hated to say it- insecurities, while simultaneously giving up none of her own? He had been fighting tooth and nail for weeks for something, anything to use against her, but he had turned up empty-handed so far. And yet she could read him like an open book. He really hated this woman.

Anise must have taken the silence to mean that she could keep talking, as she continued with her train of thought. "I think you overestimate the value of being first. A windfallen fruit has never appealed to me as much as one left on the bough to ripen." 

Canach scoffed at that. "You do keep those blades of yours keen, Countess."

"Forgive my meddling, petal. It's just that I see such potential in you."

"Petal?" _Petal?_ What was with these nicknames? Canach more closely resembled a cactus than any flower, Anise's eyesight must have been failing her. "I fear you've only employed me in order to sharpen your wit-or work on your plant puns. Why not prove me wrong and tell me your true purpose?"

"All in good time." Even though Canach wasn't looking at Anise at that moment, he could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

"Do you treat everyone you encounter like children?"

That response managed to draw a laugh from Anise. It was still a measured laugh, definitely one that wasn't unbecoming of a countess, but it was something. "You are a delicate flower, aren't you? So easily bruised..."

Again with the flower names. Those were quickly becoming one of the worst parts of working for Anise. He could let a lot of the other injustices against him go if she would just use his name on a regular basis. "I have a thick skin. I also learn from my missteps. For example, you fooled me once with your illusions, so now I wonder if you're truly as young as-"

Canach's words were cut off quickly by Anise's firm command. "Do not finish that sentence. Not here, not ever." 

Ah, so _there_ it was. That was the crack Canach had been searching for. Now it was his turn to grin. "At last, a substantial response." He would have to be careful about how often he picked at it, though. His goal was annoyance, not driving her to punish him.

"Yes, well. You would be wise to remember your place and check that tongue of yours." And with that, Anise's emotional moment was gone. Canach doubted that anyone else had even noticed it, as they were too busy watching everyone else in the area. With Charr and Norn and Asura standing around, what was one Human and one Sylvari? But that was alright, it suited Canach well. He could take this minor victory.

That moment of victory was quickly forgotten- or at least placed to the back of his mind until later- when a more pressing issue presented itself. Namely that Canach had finally caught sight of a certain small Sylvari. He certainly wasn't easy to see, with almost everyone there outside of the Asura easily towering over him, but that head of dark red ferns was difficult to miss. He was still wearing the same coat and clothing from Divinity's Reach, and Canach found himself wondering if he was uncomfortable in that. A moment later, he found himself wondering why he cared about the Commander's comfort level in the first place.

Anise must have followed Canach's line of sight and drawn her own conclusions, as she managed to jerk Canach out of his thoughts with one well-placed question. "Staring at the Commander, hmm?"

Canach had to fight to keep from making a frustrated noise. "I wasn't _staring_ , I was just checking to make sure it was him. This summit cannot begin without everyone here, and he is a key part of it." Canach had been briefed on the trip before they had left, and he also remembered the talks he and the Commander had back at the Vigil Keep. It wasn't too hard to piece together what the Commander was trying to do: get everyone together to help fight against Mordremoth. A noble goal, though Canach had his doubts about how well it would work.

Anise made a thoughtful noise, but she did not comment any further. Instead, she said, "Stay focused on our mission, petal. It wouldn't do to have you distracted now, would it?"

"Speaking of which," Canach said in response, finally looking back to Anise. He wouldn't get distracted by the Commander if he wasn't looking at the Commander. "When will you tell me why you brought me here?"

Surprisingly, Anise actually gave Canach a real answer. Or, at least, what he thought was a real answer. It was always hard to tell with her, her expression remained the same regardless of if she was telling the truth or lying. "I'm trying to decide if I can trust you out in the field. I mean, after that nasty business on Southsun."

"This again? Regardless of what you may believe, I was trying to free those refugees from the Consortium's exploitation." He had said the same words hundreds of times before, and each time someone refused to believe him he got more and more irritated. Canach may not have been good at making sound decisions sometimes, but he wasn't a liar. 

The look Anise gave him made him think that she didn't believe him, so he sighed and, fighting to keep from rolling his eyes, added, "I went about it...poorly. Criminally. And I answered for my crimes."

"Your intentions in that affair, whether noble or not, aren't what concern me," Anise responded bluntly, waving him off with a hand, "It's your failure to evade capture."

Well then. That certainly hadn't been the answer Canach had been expecting. In fact, that was probably the first time he had heard anything like that. He was caught off-guard by that response, so much so that he didn't even try to mask his utter confusion at it. "I beg your pardon?"

When Anise spoke again, she sounded almost annoyed. Almost. In a very measured way, as if she were explaining her frustrations to a particularly dense child. "Noble intentions don't interest me. What I need is a sharp instrument. A knife that can be employed before anyone realizes it's struck."

Ah, so that's what it was. Anise wasn't interested in some fool-hearted do-good. She had no use for someone optimistic and genuinely helpful. What she needed was someone who could do their job. And in this case, the job practically screamed espionage. 

Canach found himself grinning once more. If it was a blade that she needed, then he could at least provide that much. He had never been one for feelings or doing the right thing. But given a command, a target, a goal, and he could do what was needed. He would leave the optimism to the Commander; as long as his billet was owned by this woman, he would have to carry his sword for her.

He made a show of bowing to her, and as his head was bowed he said, "Show me where to cut, Countess, and I will be your blade."


	6. Vision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments! This part should be over soon. My plan is to have each 'part' be its own fic, to keep things neat and organized and all. This part is also going to be the last one where I use the pre-relationship tag, but it's still going to be a slow burn of a relationship. Both Canach and the Commander have a lot of other things on their minds right now besides romance.
> 
> My hope is to finish up the last two chapters within the next week, and start the next part shortly after that.

The Commander was not surprised that the summit had gone belly-up. Really, he had expected that; there were far too many enemies around these days, and the summit hadn't exactly been a well-kept secret. That was why he had called for so many of his fighting friends to be there in the first place: they would, in theory, be able to repel any attack. 

And hey, he actually managed to convince all of the leaders to give supplies and troops to the fight against Mordremoth before things got worse, so there was that too. Maybe he was finally getting the hang of this 'diplomacy' thing. 

But the Commander didn't have time to think about that. With all of the world leaders out of immediate danger and down to the safety of the branches below, he had to follow Kasmeer through the portal she made and help take out any remaining Mordrem. From there, they had to get everyone back to their respective cities, and then they had to sort out how Moredremoth had even known about the attack-

"Wait."

The Commander stopped in his tracks and looked back. The Avatar of the Pale Tree was there, laying on the ground. Instantly he felt a pang of guilt run through him. He had been so focused on getting the other leaders out of harm's way that he hadn't even given a second thought to his own mother. 

The Avatar held up a hand, beckoning the Commander. "Before you go. I must speak with you. Alone."

The Commander glanced over at Kasmeer, who in turn nodded to him and said, "Okay. I'll keep the portal open as long as I can."

"Thanks Kas," the Commander said, and then he hurried over to the Avatar, kneeling down beside her. 

The Pale Tree was in rough shape. The form she had there was only a projection of her, the Commander knew that much. The real body of the Pale Tree was the entire tree itself. He could feel her presence all around him any time he was in the Grove. That had always been comforting to him, like being embraced in a warm hug, but now it felt changed, rougher, more sickly. "You're hurt," he said, gazing down at the Avatar of the Pale Tree, his eyes full of worry.

"Yes," the Avatar answered, "The attack was sudden and fierce. I am…weakened."

"What can I do to help you," the Commander asked.

The Avatar shook her head. "The assault was...fierce. These Mordrem tore at my roots and battered my branches. And...be warned. There is another..."

"Another?" The Commander felt his stomach drop. The attack wasn't over yet? But there were so many people still in the Grove, and the Pale Tree herself was so weak already…

"Yes. One of the most dangerous. It comes directly from Mordremoth. You know of it from your Dream." The Avatar paused for a moment, her brow creasing in worry. The Commander didn't like that look at all, he had never seen his mother look like that before. "Listen to me: if I die-"

"You will not die today," the Commander said, cutting her off harshly. He instantly felt bac about it, he never would have dreamed of interrupting Mother before, and definitely not in such a rough manner. His worry, his fear, it was changing him. Making him become more like the war-worn men and women he knew in all of the Orders of Tyria. "I swear it to you, Mother: I won't let them kill you!"

The creases in the Avatar's brow relaxed, and she had a ghost of a smile on her face as she reached up to cup the side of the Commander's face with one of her hands. But she wasn't happy, oh no. The Commander could tell that the smile was meant to reassure him. She called him by his name, a name he rarely heard spoken anymore, and she said, "You've grown so much in such a short amount of time. I'm so proud of you."

'Don't talk like that' is what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that she would be fine, that he would defeat anything thrown at her, but he couldn't find the voice for those words. Instead he reached up and put a hand over her, the one against his own face, and held onto it tightly. His eyes slid shut, and for a moment he could only feel her presence as he tries to hold onto that comfort for even a moment longer. He may have been a hero of the people, a slayer of Zhaitan, the Commander of the Pact, but in that moment he felt like a lost child. He couldn't even imagine life without the Pale Tree there. He didn't want to.

The Avatar's voice grew weaker as she spoke again, "They're going to need you, in the coming months. I have seen it. They're going to need you to be strong, my child. Can you be strong for everyone?"

The Commander nodded. If that was what Mother wanted of him, he could do it.

"Good. There's one more thing I must ask of you too."

But instead of using her words, the Pale Tree sent that request in the form of a vision. A confusing vision, one that would have needed time to discern. But there was no time to think about it, because as the last bit of the vision faded from the Commander's mind he heard the loud 'thump' of claws on bark.

There was no more time. The Shadow of the Dragon had arrived.


	7. Reaper

Throw down a Mark of Blood

Dodge

Turn

The battle was going on far too long. The Commander specialized in quickly draining his opponents, killing them with a thousand tiny cuts. Swords stabbed, fire burned, arrows pierced, but all could be resisted. Conditions, magic that ran deeper than the surface, that was the way the Commander fought. If the enemy could not move, if they were chilled to the bone and struck with fear and bleeding, then they could not fight. And if they could not fight, then the Commander could not get hurt. That was how he had destroyed so many minions of Zhaitan, and that was how he wiped out entire armies at once. There was no need to go stabbing each individual enemy, when a well-placed spell could do the work for you.

But a well-placed spell only worked if the enemy stayed still long enough for the magic to hit them. And similarly, the magic worked better on large armies with low individual health, rather than a single enemy that was strong and deadly. 

Dodge

Step around the puddle of goo on the ground

Throw down a Reaper's Mark

The Commander simply did not do well at drawn-out fights like this. His healing was less-than-ideal, so every hit the beast landed on him did a number on his body. He was bleeding from several open cuts, cuts that he just couldn't heal fast enough, and he could feel his body begin to slow with every moment. Slowly, but surely, the Commander was failing. 

The thought of meeting his end here, while he was fighting for Mother's life, was a terrifying one.

Step forward

Turn

Throw down a Putrid Mark

Attempt to Dodge

Fail to do so, and get hit head-on by the dragon's breath

He fell backwards, bouncing off the ground and rolling twice before coming to a sudden stop. Every inch of his body screamed in pain, begging him to stop, to just rest. But the dragon, it was swooping around again, looking for another hole in the trees from which to attack. The Commander had mere seconds to grab his staff and get back up. But it hurt, it hurt _so much_ , and as he laid there on the ground gritting his teeth in pain he could hear the dragon reach another perch. 

The Commander started to lift himself up, using his arms to push himself to his knees. 

The dragon roared again, sending the Commander sliding across the treetop branches. 

This time, the Commander did not try to get back up. He lifted his head up weakly, turning his gaze to the Avatar laying nearby. Tears began to well up at the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill over. His senses began to go soft around the edges as his mind receded from the world, distancing himself from everything around him. The pain was lessening, sure, but that was because everything else was too. The Commander was too weak to even say the desperate apology to his Mother, what he thought would be his final words, before his head sunk to the ground once more.

As the Commander's mind slipped from that world, all he could think of was the lives in the branches below him, and how he had failed them all.

\---

_The Cathedral of Silence was quite a sight to behold. The Commander wasn't particularly attached to Grenth- the Sylvari didn't worship the human gods, after all- but the kinship in the powers of death gave him some kind of connection to the holy site. After stealing a quick glance over to Trahearne, the Commander got the feeling that the Marshall felt the same way as well. Perhaps that was why the Commander had chosen this mission to help in the push against Zhaitan: with both of their connections to the afterlife, maybe they would be able to find something useful in this cathedral._

_"It's quite a sight, isn't it," the Commander said, throwing Trahearne a grin._

_The grin was returned in kind, along with a few words of encouragement. "Indeed. It would have been a sight back before the Sinking."_

_"And with my device here, we should get some insight into how it was previously used," the small Asura- Pokka was his name, it took the Commander a moment to remember that- added._

_The fourth member of their group, another Asura, largely remained quiet. But their final member, a priestess of Grenth named Rhie, was quick to shush all of them. "I'm going to begin the ceremony now. Be respectful, and allow Grenth to enter your hearts and souls."_

_The Commander threw another glance over to Trahearne, who just shrugged. Humans and their religious practices were so confusing sometimes._

_"Hail, ancient one! Rise from your frozen tomb. I, your priestess, call upon you in the name of Grenth himself!"_

_For a moment, nothing happened. That moment stretched on for just long enough that the Commander had started to consider speaking up and ask if something had gone wrong. But before he could even open his mouth, a glowing figure phased into existence. It was large, green, and definitely not human-looking. It almost made the Commander back up in shock. Almost._

_Trahearne must have sensed the Commander's unease, because he quietly whispered to the Commander, "Be still, love. We are not in danger."_

_The Commander nodded and swallowed hard, his gaze still firmly trained on the creature in front of him._

_"Who dares summon me," the creature bellowed, its eyes scanning the group in front of him, "A true priest! Is there such a thing in this fallen land?"_

_Priestess Rhie spoke again, her voice full of the confidence that the Commander was finding himself lacking in. "I am Grenth's servant, and we have survived many dangers to speak with you, Please, hear us?"_

_"I see in your heart that several you are no stranger to Death," The creature spoke, its voice still loud and haunting, yet somehow not quite as forceful as they had been mere moments before. Perhaps it was pleased with what it saw? The Commander watched the creature's eyes scan over the party, ultimately returning to Priestess Rhie, as it said, "Very well. I will hear you out, but in return you will kill in Grenth's name."_

_But then the creature's gaze shifted, falling on the Commander specifically. "You."_

_The Commander could practically feel his heart jump into his throat. This wasn't right, the Reaper should have been talking to Priestess Rhie. He found himself frozen in place, unable to answer, but that didn't seem to matter to the creature. Instead it kept talking to him, saying, "You should not be here yet. The power you were given, it still lays unused. You would dare to ignore a gift of Grenth?"_

_A gift of Grenth? How was that even possible? The Commander had never met any human god before, much less received a blessing from them. He wasn't even sure if they existed at all._

_"Your doubts hold you back. Were you not born for a purpose? Did you not seek out Grenth's power for that purpose?"_

_None of this was right. This wasn't how things had gone._

_The scene before the Commander began to swirl together into one large pool of inky blackness, leaving only the Commander and the Reaper still standing. The Reaper held out a hand, palm facing the Commander's face, and suddenly the Commander felt something deep within him stir. He bit down a gasp as pain began to overwhelm him, a horrible pain that felt like his very soul was being ripped from his body. But it wasn't going anywhere, it was staying right there, but…outside? The Commander looked down at his hands, and he saw that they were covered in a swirling, angry grey shadow, one that darted this way and that. His whole body was covered in it, and though he could see through it easily, he had the feeling that others would not be able to see him._

_"Do not deny this gift again. Grenth has been gracious in deciding to let a creature like you prove itself. Prove that your people deserve to share Tyria with the humans."_

_Another dark shadow, even darker than the one surrounding the Commander's body, began to take shape in his hands. Instead of forming a protective covering, it condensed itself, becoming a long pole with a large curved blade at the end. A scythe, he realized a moment later._

_"Do not return to this place again, Mordrem. Not until you have proven your people's worth."_

And with that, the Commander was pushed back, far far back from the darkness and the Reaper. He was pushed back into the light, the light that began to tug him upwards towards consciousness.

\---

The Avatar of the Pale Tree was burning with pain. She could not lift herself up, much less defend herself. The damage ran too deep, and it was all she could do to keep conscious and watch the fight in front of her.

Watch as the Commander, her precious child, the one born to slay the dragons, was tossed around like a rag doll.

He had fallen out of consciousness some time ago. The Avatar could sense his presence, but only barely. He was fading fast, and she couldn't help him. Oh, how her heart ached! She choked back a pained sob as she watched him fall to the ground once more, arms and legs stuck out at unnatural angles. And the dragon, that wretched dragon, it was eying him like he was a treat. It leaned in, opening it's great jaws, ready to scoop up the Commander one last time-

Suddenly the Commander erupted into a fountain of grey and black shadows, an act which startled the dragon and made it shrink back. Suddenly he was on his feet again, or at least it looked like that based on how the shadowy shape was formed. It was difficult to make out exactly what was going on with the Commander, as the shadows were doing a good job of cloaking his appearance. But the Avatar did see one thing that the dragon apparently did not: a giant shadowy scythe rested in the Commander's right hand. And it wasn't just his staff transformed either, that lay on the ground not far from the Avatar herself.

The commander swung the scythe around in a large arc, striking the dragon directly in the face. The dragon roared in pain and moved to swipe at the Commander, but its attack was blocked by a spinning slice of the scythe as the Commander swung around in a large arc, hitting the beast several times in succession. The dragon, evidently startled by the sudden display of strength, took off from the branch once more.

The Avatar watched the shadowy figure that the Commander had become, trying to search out any kind of reaction from him. He was there, the Avatar could feel his presence even stronger than before. But he was…different. Changed. Smothered by a magic that she had not bestowed upon him. 

With a roar and a thump the dragon landed again, as far away from the Commander as it could. It opened its mouth wide, ready to breathe again, and for a moment the Avatar thought that the Commander was done for. But then he _stepped_ and in a moment he was across the tree branches, burying the blade of his scythe in the fleshy part of the dragon's mouth. The dragon roared in pain and shook its head, trying to dislodge the scythe from its mouth. The Commander held strong, pulling back on the scythe, trying to rip a large tear through the dragon's mouth itself. The Avatar squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the final results of those efforts. But what she heard, that was more than enough to paint a picture in her mind. 

A sickening crunch

A disgusting splatter

A sharp roar

And the flapping of wings

It was all over. In the span of thirty seconds, the Commander had managed to drive off the beast. Quite a feat, for a single fighter. 

The Avatar opened her eyes, and she saw the shadow-covered Commander standing there, facing the direction that the dragon had presumably left from. For a long moment he just stood there, unmoving. Then the shadows began to drift upwards, becoming less like an angry mess of scribbles and more like ash and smoke. They drifted away, like the remains of a fire after it had been put out. And much like an old fire, the Commander fell to the ground, completely spent. The shadows continued to drift away as the Avatar called for her attendants, signaling for them to tell the human mesmer to try and get a portal going again.

The Avatar reached out with her mind, searching for any signs of life from the Commander. He was still there, his presence going strong, but that strange magic had not left him when the shadows did. It stayed there, swirling in his body, mixing with him and becoming as much a part of him as his heart or mind was.

The Avatar was cautiously optimistic. Her dragonslayer would live to see another day, but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: 'The World Summit' was the first story chapter I did after buying Heart of Thorns and unlocking the elite specializations. Seeing my Commander with that new shiny Reaper's Shroud was really fun. 
> 
> Also, technically the Reaper specialization isn't granted by Grenth in the game, but I thought it would be an interesting change to make for this story. Grenth had Reapers, and you get to talk to one in the personal story, so I felt like it would be a nice touch for a Reaper character to get their new powers from said Reaper of Grenth.
> 
> The next chapter should be the last one for this part, and then I'll be moving on to the next part. Thanks for sticking with me through this, and I hope you keep enjoying it!


	8. Awakening

He did not dream that time. No Reapers, no memories of the past, nothing. Instead it felt as though everything had passed in an instant, and soon he was blinking awake once more. The only reason he was even aware of the fact that time had passed was that he had passed out face-first in the ground, and when he woke up he was on his back, his head being cradled by Marjory.

"He's coming to," Marjory said to the others, though the Commander's vision was still blurry and he couldn't quite make out who was standing around him. Taimi was there, probably, he could hear the whirring and mechanical movements of her golem. And that bright patch of white near Marjory, that had to be Kasmeer. Everyone else was indistinct shapes in a while rainbow of colors.

The Commander reached up with a shaky hand to try and shield his eyes from the bright light streaming through the canopy. He must have been out for a while, if his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. "How long?"

"Not even a half-hour," Marjory said, her serious voice becoming softer, "You sure are good at giving us a scare, boss."

"My apologies," The Commander said. He attempted to pull himself up to sitting, but his head was spinning, and he just fell back against Marjory's lap, an act that earned a chuckle from Marjory. His arm also fell flat across his eyes, blocking out most of the light entirely. He was going to get a migraine at this rate. "…apologies for that as well."

"It's fine. Your head's full of ferns, that's an improvement over spikes and spines."

"I would much appreciate it if you did not speak about me as if I were not within earshot." Ah, there was Canach. Somehow the Commander knew he wouldn't be far away. Or was he perhaps hoping for that instead?

The bubble of laughter on the Commander's left, that had to be Taimi. The sounds of the golem were over there as well. And that snort down by his feet, that sounded like Rox. Hearing the familiar voices around him, that brought a smile to the Commander's face. "Do I want to know how you know about that," he asked, his amusement very clear in his voice.

Another disgruntled noise came from Canach's direction, and then he heard the sound of footsteps and talking. "If you have it in you to tell jokes, then you're fine. Now get up," Canach said, nudging at the Commander's leg with one of his boots, "You're making a fool of yourself."

"Far be it from me to 'make a fool of myself' in the presence of such an esteemed guest," the Commander said sarcastically. But he did try to sit up once more, and this time he was successful. Everything still hurt, but he could feel his energy slowly returning. His vision was starting to return too: this time when he looked around at the group, it only took a few blinks of his eyes before things started to come into focus. 

Everyone the Commander would have expected to see was there. His entire group of…well, not really a guild, they hadn't made anything formal yet. But Rox, Braham, Marjory, Kasmeer, and Taimi were all there. The five people the Commander had counted on during the war with Scarlet, all by his side. It felt like a guild was forming, maybe.

And then there was Canach too. He was the odd man out in all of this. He had been their enemy before, but now he was on the path to redemption. But his sword didn't belong to them, it belonged to Anise. Who was to say where Canach's loyalties lay? But a small part of the Commander was glad that Canach was there too. Even if his path to this was different, he still belonged none the less. The Commander wouldn't have it any other way.

"So," Braham said, breaking the silence first, "Are you going to tell us what happened, or just leave us in the dark?"

Should he tell them? They were his friends, his allies. They had the right to know about these new powers that he had. Marjory was a necromancer too, she might even know a thing or two about Grenth and why the Commander would have seen him like that. But there was something within him, something that held him back. No, he would rather talk to Trahearne about it first. Maybe after that he could tell everyone, but first he had to talk to his oldest and longest-lasting confidant. 

"I over-extended myself," the Commander said sheepishly, "It was a good thing I did, it drove the dragon off, but I pushed myself beyond where I should have." It was true, in a way. Half-truths were much easier to say than outright lies.

Thankfully, that answer seemed to satisfy almost everyone. Marjory looked a little suspicious, but she also knew how the shroud worked, so her inside knowledge may have made it easier for her to see through his partial lies. Thankfully she did not call him out on it though, and everyone else seemed to be accepting his words as truth, so no further explanation was needed.

"You should stay home for a bit," Kasmeer said, "You look like you're wiped out, and I bet you could use some rest."

"There's too much work to do," the Commander said with a shake of his head, and finally he moved to stand up, "There's still getting the world leaders home, preparing the staging area for the Pact to launch from, finding out any additional information we can about Mordremoth-"

The only reason the Commander stopped speaking so suddenly there was that he had made it to his feet, but he had started to wobble a bit. Rox stepped in quickly and grabbed his elbow to steady him. "-yes, thank you Rox. As I was saying-"

"You want to do your part," Taimi said, finishing his sentence for him, "I get it, I do. We all want to do our part in the fight against Mordremoth. But it's going to take weeks, maybe months before we're ready to jump in the fight, so it's not going to hurt anything if you take a couple days for yourself. Even just looking at the technical aspects, there's waaaaay too much to do first. And no offense Commander, but you don't exactly have the right kind of brilliance to do any of this work. You might as well just kick it up and get your body all healed up while us geniuses do our work." Ever the prideful one, she was.

But interestingly enough, Taimi of all people had the Commander considering it. He still had to piece together what that vision meant, so maybe resting and thinking about it would help him prepare. "I suppose you have a point," he said finally.

It was about then that another figure walked over. Trahearne had been nearby, but not actively participating in the conversation. Instead, he had been with the Wardens tending to the Pale Tree, discussing something with them. As he walked over, a troubled look was plainly visible on his face. But as he got closer he looked up and saw the group surrounding the Commander and his face softened into a smile. "I hope you don't mind my eavesdropping," he said, stopping once he was close enough to have a conversation with the group, "But if you're looking to rest, then perhaps you should come back to Fort Trinity with me? I will be busy with work, of course, but you have your own quarters there you can use."

The Commander was sure that Trahearne had reasons for inviting him back to Fort Trinity. He wouldn't have spoken up otherwise. But the Commander knew better than to talk about it so openly here. If he was being secretive like this about his reasons, then it probably involved Pact business. And if it was Pact business, then the Commander would gladly help with that. He wasn't about to leave Trahearne to handle everything.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," the Commander said, and then he turned to his companions and started to give orders, "Jory, Kas, you two go to the Priory and see what information you can find. There's got to be something useful in there. Taimi, you still have some work to do at that lab, right? You can work on that for now, and let me know if you find anything interesting in your research. Braham, Rox, if you could help make sure the world leaders get home safe, I would appreciate that."

Everyone seemed to accept the jobs that the Commander was handing them. He was sure they had other things they needed to do, so he also added one more bit to his instructions: "We'll meet back up in the Silverwastes once the staging area has been built. That should give us all a few weeks to get some work done, I think."

Then his sights turned to Canach. While he felt like he should be giving Canach a task too, he did know that Canach took orders from Countess Anise, not him. So he hesitated, waiting to see if Canach spoke up.

Thankfully he did, after eying the Commander carefully for a moment. "I have been ordered off with the Pact to Fort Trinity. Her ladyship, Countess Anise, has given me my first official solo mission."

"Well that's…certainly convenient," the Commander said. He glanced over to Trahearne, who gave him a tiny shrug in response. He must not have known any more about it than the Commander did. Turning back to Canach, he said, "Why Fort Trinity?"

"Who can discern the true motives of a woman like Anise? Not I," Canach stated with an irritated huff, "Though I suspect it is because she wants regular updates about your activities."

The Commander frowned at that. Sure, he generally had a high regard of Anise. She had helped him out on several occasions. But at the same time, he didn't really like the idea of being spied on, even if it was by a friendly face. He stole one last glance over to Trahearne, searching for some kind of reassurance. The Pact was his, technically, so it was up to him to defend it. Not the Commander. But Trahearne just gave the Commander an encouraging smile, followed by a small shake of his head. A reassurance, he thought, but it did not reassure the Commander too much. Still, if Trahearne wasn't too worried, then the Commander would defer to him. "Alright," he said finally, looking back to Canach, "Try to make yourself useful while you're there, okay?"

Canach snorted at that. "My sword belongs to the Countess, but for the time being it seems she has loaned me out to you."

That just made the Commander's frown deepen. Bought and sold, loaned and used. Was that the future Canach had to look forward to? One where he was passed around from owner to owner, fulfilling their sword-swinging needs? That hardly seemed better than the jail cell he had been confined to previously.

But if he was to be at Fort Trinity for a bit, then perhaps the Commander could make his stay a little easier. Maybe that would warm Canach to the idea of working with the Commander, once his billet has been paid off. That sounded like a much more agreeable arrangement: not being sold by his sword, but rather freely allying it to those he trusted.

It was then that the Commander made a firm resolve: before the end of this, he would become the person that Canach would trust in that way. The Commander wasn't as great of a leader as Trahearne was, but he could do some things. Maybe he was exactly what was needed to win Canach over to the Pact. 

Or, perhaps, a new guild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! This part is done!
> 
> I have a longer, one chapter piece planned for the salad shenanigans at Fort Trinity, and then I'll be getting back on track with the actual plot. I'm going to be skipping over some parts of the story, mostly because it just doesn't fit too well in what I have planned. But everything that happened in the story is still happening. Things will be mentioned, but not described in full detail.
> 
> Also! When I started this, I planned on not giving a name to the Commander, so that people could supply their own names if they wanted. I'm going to keep up with that and not give out the Commander's actual name, but I was considering giving him an in-story nickname, just so that I don't have to keep writing 'the Commander' over and over. What do you guys think? Would you like for the Commander to be given a nickname and go by that in the narration? Or would you prefer it if I stuck to 'the Commander'?


End file.
